


Starstruck Memories

by South_Star



Series: Starstruck [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Edit: did I change Lexal and Celios’ names??, F/M, Gonna tag EVERYONE because they’ll prob all pop up eventually, M/M, Why yes. Yes I did., Will prob add more SO’s once I name them too, Will update tags as requested, dub-con, non-con, or when I remember something to add
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24909946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/South_Star/pseuds/South_Star
Summary: Extra, alternate or deleted scenes in the Starstruck series featuring any of the main characters.
Relationships: Lexal/Rowan, Vellan/Adiran, Vellan/Neaswe
Series: Starstruck [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799800
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hmmm. Is this just an excuse to write porn haha?? Maybe, maybe, but I really will undoubtably write other stuff that doesn’t fit into the bulk of the story but be reluctant to delete it, so here it’ll go!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. 
> 
> Vellan is a good father and a dutiful husband. Both are harder than they should be.
> 
> [A scene that would have taken place in my original drafts, but has since been taken out due to changes in the plot - so this is technically not canon! Please enjoy regardless.]

Vellan’s hand tightened around his pen without meaning to, mouth thinning at the sound of someone’s voice in his personal office grabbing his attention. He didn’t look up. 

“Your Grace,” said the attendant, although he at least sounded apologetic about the interruption even if he didn’t knock first. “The farm census has arrived.” 

Vellan did look up at that, even if only out of confusion. 

“... The what?”

The attendant was looking everywhere but at Vellan’s face, but Vellan couldn’t focus on the impropriety beyond the sudden lead weight in his chest that made his heart start sinking. 

“The chronicling of the lower functioning psionic-expelling subjects, per Lord Adiran’s orders as of last month... Which he has commanded that you oversee in your capacity as Crown Consort.” 

For a moment it was as though water was making it difficult to hear, the blood rushing through his veins too loud to hear anything else. 

“... My lord husband wishes me to oversee the farming of psychic civilians,” Vellan repeated out loud, just to be sure. 

The attendant shuffled uncertainly in the doorway. 

“... Yes, my lord. The details are... in this pad, if it pleases you.” 

Nothing pleased him anymore, Vellan couldn’t help but think. Certainly not harvesting the flesh of innocent civilians who had done nothing but have those proper genetic codes that gave them another sense entirely... Those selfsame senses that could be incorporated with machinery to make complex AI’s and navigational star maps of a totally different caliber than anything on the market. But who was Vellan to stand in the way of _progress_.

No one, his husband would probably laugh. 

“Place the pad on my desk,” Vellan ordered flatly, dismissal clear in his tone, and the attendant was only too happy to obey. 

It was only when the attendant was gone that Vellan was hurriedly tapping the screen, scrolling quickly through files and files of names and numbers and associated projects. The description of the farming process was too much, and Vellan held his face in his hands. He felt vaguely ill. 

Vellan was going to have to talk to Adiran, wasn’t he?

He looked at the time. It was a bit early, but perhaps it would be necessary to head to the royal apartments earlier than usual. This was _important_ , and Vellan didn’t have time to hesitate when there was... flesh harvesting, and other unsightly things going on. 

Bracing himself, Vellan stood up and absently undid the bindings on his hair. The last time he had stood up for anything had resulted in Vellan’s hair getting caught and tangled in one of Adiran’s rings. With his hair free left Vellan able to clutch the farming census tightly as he took on a brisk almost-run, attendants and guests keeping their faces towards the floor as he stiffly passed each and every one. He wanted to get there before Adiran, maybe arrange it so that if Vellan caught Adiran in a well enough mood then Vellan could convince him that their resources were better spent elsewhere in ways that didn’t embitter the populace more than it already was. 

Vellan nearly skidded to a halt as he reached his and Adiran’s quarters, pausing for several quick seconds to neaten his appearance, smooth out his clothes and catch his breath before opening his door; unfortunately, Vellan didn’t anticipate the presence of his son further in the apartment and startled violently at the sight of Nerrus standing there, dropping the data pad. 

“What— Nerrus,” he gasped, rubbing his chest in an attempt to slow his racing heart. Nerrus looked guilty, scuffing his shoe. 

“Sorry, Papa, I know you said not to come today, but...” 

Vellan quickly retrieved the pad, turning back to Nerrus but a moment later. 

“Is-is it important?” He questioned, looking at the time and feeling somewhat panicked. Adiran was supposed to be back any minute; his schedule was like clockwork. 

Nerrus looked even guiltier. 

“I, um, I had a question about my homework but you were busy all day...” 

Vellan stared. Nerrus was five; what did five year olds struggle with — math? Math seemed like a safe bet. But math could take time to explain and Vellan didn’t have the time to help Nerrus understand it when Adiran was going to be back any moment. 

He took his son by the hand, gently leading him through the apartment back towards the front door. 

“I promise I’ll help you, Nerrus, but can it wait until tonight? I need a word with your step-father,” he managed to say with minimal signs of anxiousness, which of course was the moment that the door opened. 

Adiran stood there, one of his long ears twitching. His remaining pink eye stared down at Nerrus in their shared rooms. 

“... why is Neaswe’s spawn here?” Adiran questioned, sounding bemused rather than angry. 

(Vellan still flinched at the sound of Neaswe’s name. No amount of time could make it easier to hear, he didn’t think.)

“He was just leaving,” Vellan promised, and he stared at the floor with taut shoulders that wanted to hitch up defensively with every moment. Adiran stared for a moment longer before rolling his eyes, stepping aside so that Nerrus could carefully scuttle out with wide eyes. 

Adiran turned back, charming grin back in place now that everything was as it should’ve been, and Vellan managed to straighten up all the way without Nerrus there. 

“So. Didn’t think I said you could let kids in here,” Adiran teased, and Vellan kept his expression calm and placid. 

“He needed assistance with his math homework, nothing more.” 

His husband gave a long hum. 

“Mmh... I could make a big deal of it, you know... The Niossi use child assassins,” Adiran laughed, as if his voice wasn’t coercive and on the verge of blackmailing him. 

Vellan knew what his next line was supposed to be. It was routine. The words tasted like ash in the back of his throat, thick and unconscionable but there.

“How can I make it up to you?” 

Adiran smiled, a slow and languid and charming thing to anyone who didn’t know him, and even still to some who did. He stepped closer, placing his hand low on Vellan’s hip. Vellan didn’t move, even when Adiran leaned down to kiss him. 

His hand tightened painfully. 

“I don’t feel you enjoying it,” Adiran said observationally, though his eyebrow ticked lower with displeasure. Vellan tilted his head up at the unspoken command, snaking his hands up Adiran’s broad shoulders to hold himself steady while his mouth met Adiran’s. 

It wasn’t anything heated, or at least not on Vellan’s end. It felt cool and calculated, missing that sense of pure lust and passion that many of Vellan’s previous lovers had possessed no matter how unwanted their touch. Adiran’s tongue explored Vellan’s mouth slowly, utterly unconcerned that Vellan would bite down. Vellan’s tongue met Adiran’s while Adiran’s unoccupied hand fiddled with the hem of his shirt. His hand snaked up Vellan’s back under his shirt, uncomfortably cool against his skin and kept there with how tight his clothing was. Vellan shivered at the frigid sensation, unconsciously leaning against Adiran which earned him a hum of approval. 

“Hah, you’re so eager today! Did you want to be punished?” He asked, voice dropping to an uncomfortably low and sultry tone. 

Vellan thought rather uncharitably that he’d willingly be punished if it meant Adiran would drop dead. But then he felt terrible and conflicted for thinking such a foul thing. 

“I don’t think I can handle more than you can give me,” Vellan said out loud, diplomatically. Adiran snorted but released him, stepping away quickly enough that Vellan stumbled, and began the quick process of kicking off his shoes and unbuttoning the front of his pants. 

“Be ready by the time I get to the bedroom,” He waved off, which left Vellan with little choice but to hurry to the bedroom just to unhappily undress. First was his vest, then his shirt, then tugging off his sockets, and Vellan’s pants were around his thighs when Adiran stepped inside. 

He tsk’d. 

“You’re so slow,” Adiran complained, stepping forward with his nakedness totally unheeded. Vellan looked up a him; Adiran was palming himself, experienced fingers making his arousal stiff. He grinned down at Vellan sharply, appearing very handsome and well aware of it. 

“How d’you feel about using your mouth?” 

Vellan’s throat went dry. 

That... was always difficult. It hurt, a lot. Vellan was small in almost every way, and it wasn’t like he had some sort of gaping maw for a mouth that could become unhinged to take Adiran all the way in, no matter how hard he tried. But Adiran snorted a moment later, gesturing with his free hand lazily. 

“C’mon, turn around already. I want to get started.”

Vellan reached down to slip his pants off the rest of the way, but Adiran looked irritated enough by the motion that Vellan haltingly turned around instead, movements slow and awkward with his pants still around his knees. 

No later were Vellan’s knees against the bed was Adiran on him, breath hot against his cheek and hands still unbearably cold. His fingers were teasing against his entrance in a way that had Vellan’s hands digging into the blankets with tight little fists. 

Adiran laughed quietly. 

“Oh, d’you like that? I’ve been practicing just for you.” 

“I’m... g-grateful, for your consideration,” Vellan choked out, voice strangled. 

Tears stung his eyes. 

Adiran leaned forward to see his face better and laughed, sounding delighted and smug all at once. 

“Oh, wow, I guess you _do_ like this, huh? Does my touch make you as wet as your eyes?” 

Vellan’s fingers tightened at the crude question, holding onto the covers so tightly that his hands shook violently. 

“I-I always... Desire your touch,” he managed, which was when Adiran’s fingers forced their way deeper inside without warning. Vellan’s head bucked at the unexpected force of the intrusion, hiccuping on surprised tears. 

His husband sounded darkly pleased by his reaction; “Oh, sorry. Hand slipped, you know how it is. Guess you should apologize for being too wet and loose, huh?” 

“I’m sorry,” Vellan said thickly, almost crying. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ 

The fingers inside were no longer like ice but wet and warm, uncomfortably thick where they teased at Vellan’s inner walls by pressing forcefully against them. It made him miss Neaswe. Neaswe, who had been kind and gentle and always, always so very warm; who’s explorative touch had always seemed to chase away all the bad thoughts and dark memories and made him see _stars_ -

“I’m sorry,” Vellan hiccuped again, and he no longer knew whether it was to Neaswe or Adiran. 

Adiran seemed pleased, regardless, and pulled his hand away. He crawled onto the bed, easily keeping Vellan’s thighs apart when he tried to shakily close them, and Vellan rested his head against the familiar blankets even as he felt Adiran’s certainly hard arousal prod at him languidly. 

“Wow, you really were pretty eager today!” Adiran laughed. Vellan wondered distantly, staring ahead with tear-blind eyes, whether it was delusion, willful-blindness or perverse pleasure that always had him insisting Vellan enjoyed every minute of these acts. 

(Maybe the fault lied with Vellan. Maybe Neaswe’s gentle hands had rendered him broken and he really should be enjoying it as much as Adiran claimed.)

Vellan grunted, a thin sound escaping him as Adiran pushed in quickly. Fingers never seemed to prepare him for Adiran’s entirety, especially when Adiran was excited and didn’t slow down for him. 

“H-hurts,” Vellan moaned into the bed, almost biting down on the blanket. Adiran’s hips rolled, teasing himself in and out shallowly. There was a smile evident in his voice, 

“What’s that? Speak up, Vellan, I can’t hear you if you’re going to be a baby about this.” 

“Slower... P-please, slower,” He managed to not-quite beg, voice unmuffled when Vellan lifted his head to speak. There was a disappointed _tsk_ above him. 

“Wow. Seriously? I work pretty hard all day, you know; isn’t this supposed to be happy hour?”

“Y... yes...” 

“Then _take it,_ ” Adiran snapped, pushing inside all the way. Vellan inhaled sharply, lips trembling as he bit back a cry. There was a moment where they were both adjusting to the sensations, and Vellan could almost see Adiran’s face behind his eyelids with the experience of five years; his handsome gray skin flushed dark, head thrown back with pleasure and perfectly parted golden hair falling into his _pinkpinkpink_ eyes. Vellan could feel toned muscles pressing against his own lithe and scrawny body, his skin burning wherever Adiran laid his hands. 

Vellan’s husband began to move, almost sliding out all the way before pushing back in. Vellan’s breath hitched, peach tears leaking from his eyes and staining the blanket. He stared blankly at those bright little droplets, feeling as though his mind were going up and away even if he was really just laying there, muscles trembling as his lawful husband fucked him from behind. 

His own arousal felt slick and wet between his legs, beginning to drip. It was a physiological reaction, Vellan knew logically. The body’s way of making intercourse tolerable or even pleasurable, no matter how the mind was perceiving the administrations. But that didn’t stop the flush of shame Vellan could feel spreading throughout his body, skin growing dark and heated wherever his blood pooled under the surface in humiliation. 

Adiran kept pushing, out quickly and in slowly until that was all Vellan could feel; their bodies rocking in a smooth motion and the scent of sex thick in the air. Vellan bit his tongue hard enough he was surprised he didn’t begin to bleed and taste copper, one of his hands shakily releasing the cover to almost shyly reach for his own length. It was a natural thing, to want release as soon as possible. It was especially natural when Vellan wanted it done and over with so that he could have that conversation he wanted to desperately have. But that didn’t make it any less embarrassing when he climaxed early, already wound tighter than usual and with as much energy as a live wire. 

Adiran laughed in sharp surprise. 

“Ha! I guess you really do... what’d you say, desire my touch? Oughta make it so that you live on my dick, Vellan, it’s where you’d look prettiest-“

“H-husband,” Vellan sobbed pitifully, voice exhausted and entreating and achingly submissive in the way he knew Adiran liked most. “Husband, please, please, I w-want you to... _I want you to..._ inside, please-“

“Oh,” His husband said in a sort of voice that made it clear where Vellan’s voice was going, “well... Heh. I bet you’d never beg Neaswe like this, would you? She’d be too soft and proud, never getting dirty enough for this and always leaving you wanting, but that’s why I’m here and better to you than she could’ve ever been-“ 

Adiran’s pace picked up with every word until it was just animalistic rutting, Vellan beginning to sob louder at every mention of Neaswe that left Adiran’s mouth while Adiran took it for enthusiastic pleasure and continued with wicked enthusiasm. 

He wanted Neaswe, he wanted Neaswe, _he wanted Neaswe so BAD it hurt it hurt it HURT, Neaswe never hurt him-_

Adiran came with a loud grunt, filling Vellan’s insides with hot liquid that made him want to claw his skin open just to pour it out in an attempt to feel cleaner. 

* * *

“I wanted to discuss something with you,” Vellan said before he could lose his nerve long minutes later, and Adiran looked back from where he was buttoning his fresh shirt. 

“Hm?” 

“Regarding the farming census-“ 

“Oh!” Adiran grinned, quick and pleased. “Come in already, did it? I was giving it another month or two. What about it?”

“It’s inhumane,” Vellan said quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. “The things detailed—no person should be going through that just for their flesh to be harvested and incorporated into machinery, not to mention everyone being held captive as they wait their turn-“ 

Adiran’s expression fell back into flat annoyance. 

“Ugh, seriously? Do you KNOW how accurate star maps are if you’ve got some psychic brain in there to quad-graph an entire planet of sentients’ locations-“ 

“You’re hurting people!” Vellan interrupted before he could think better of it, feeling impassioned over the topic. “People are dying and being tortured over there-“ 

“DO NOT,” Adiran snapped, suddenly much closer, “interrupt me.”

Vellan flinched back, and they both stood still for a long moment of terse silence. It was Adiran who slowly backed off, eying Vellan’s wet thighs with a disappointed grimace. 

“And here I was in such a good mood, too,” he scoffed. Adiran tugged up his pants, tucking his shirt in with a scowl.   
  
“Clean up after yourself, Vellan; you’re a mess.” 

Vellan was left kneeling on the bed by himself, only his previous discarded shirt providing any sense of modesty. He already felt physically exhausted, but watching the door slide shut left Vellan feeling as though any hope or desire to make things _better_ left with Adiran. 

He slid off the bed, standing on shaking legs towards the bathroom. Vellan stood in there, hovering for a long moment of dulled indecision before directing himself to the sink. He stared at his expression; Vellan looked lifeless, only his freckles providing any light in the dark bathroom. Splashing some cool water into his face didn’t help; it only stung his eyes, making Vellan have to look himself in the face as he began to cry again. 

Vellan grabbed a towel, burying his face in it, and kneeled right there on the bathroom rug. He was... so, so tired. What was the point anymore? Nothing he did worked. Vellan couldn’t even help himself, never mind any of those poor people — Adiran hadn’t even taken half a heartbeat to hear him out on the subject, practically waving him off the instant he realized what Vellan was asking for. 

What was the point, Vellan asked himself wretchedly, and Nerrus’ face popped into his mind’s eye. All of Neaswe’s stocky build and tall height and golden skin compacted into one tiny five-year old. It was bittersweet but still more than the bereft ache in Vellan’s heart that had threatened to overtake him not a moment beforehand, Vellan knew with comforting logic. 

He rubbed at his face tiredly with the towel, and stood to take another look at his face in the mirror. Dark rings under his eyes, a tired sloop to his shoulders, and dried tear tracks he’d just wiped away. It was good Vellan’s sclera was black or else they’d probably be reddening from tears. Still, besides all of that, Vellan looked almost presentable. He just... had to clean up and get dressed. Maybe take a shower. Rummage around for some fresh clothes from his closet. 

Then he could help Nerrus with his math homework. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a severely traumatized father is difficult. Being the son to a severely traumatized man can be just as difficult. 
> 
> Somehow, Vellan and Nerrus make it work — usually.

“Absolutely not.” 

This was said with a rare kind of surety that Vellan seldom seemed to feel, but he couldn’t even appreciate it; not when his son was staring down at him with all the self assurance of any sixteen year old. 

The thought sent a thrum of old, old terror through him. 

“It’s just going out into the city,” Nerrus said with exasperated calm, as though Vellan was being unreasonable. “Some of my friends invited me, and we’re going to hang out.” 

“No,” said Vellan in a voice he couldn’t even begin to recognize. “No, no, absolutely not. That’s- your friends can come here. Whatever happened to staying inside where it’s nice and safe? You have everything you could want right here in your home.”

Nerrus looked torn between pity and irritated in a way that set Vellan’s veins on fire, even if it was from his only child. 

“That’s _boring_ ,” Nerrus sighed, loud and gusty with teenage angst. But Vellan could find no amusement or indulgence in his son’s attitude, not now, not with this. Just the thought of leaving the high walls of the palace made Vellan’s palms slick with anxious sweat, made him want to crawl under his bed and hide from the world until the oppressive worrying went away even when he knew he was being silly about it. 

Not that he ever did that, but the point was that Vellan _wanted_ to and _how did Nerrus not feel like that._

“That,” Vellan said stiffly, enough wounded dignity in his voice to make even Nerrus look twice, “is called _being safe.”_

Nerrus reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, his other hand settling on his hip and painting a pretty picture of being a casually exasperated teenager. It hurt, but more than that it was terrifying. 

“I don’t get why this is such a big deal to you,” Nerrus huffed. “It’s just one day! It’s a couple of hours! Two hours, maybe three, tops!” 

_Just two hours, maybe three_ , Vellan could almost hear himself echo, something edging close to a memory along the recess of his mind, but then it was gone when he took a deep breath. 

“Nerrus, you _do_ _not_ take that tone with me,” Vellan said warningly, and Nerrus threw his hands in the air.

“You’re being RIDICULOUS,” Nerrus said loudly, almost a shout, and-

“Don’t _yell at me_ , Adiran!” Vellan snarled back, seeing gold and gray and pink in a blinding haze that colored everything else, but then the fury left him all in a rush because he was staring up at his son’s mismatched eyes. 

Nerrus stared at him, looking as wounded as Vellan had ever seen him.   
  
“... I didn’t mean that.” Vellan said, shaken. “I didn’t mean to say that, I-I don’t know why I said that- Nerrus, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to-“ 

Nerrus turned away, and for a long moment it was like Vellan had been stabbed and he couldn’t _breathe_ , but then Nerrus was sighing and walking back and awkwardly folding in on himself to hug him. 

“I know, Dad, I know... I forgive you,” Nerrus sighed, sounding tired, and Vellan clutched at his son even though it made him feel like the child between the two of them.   
  
“I didn’t mean to-“ 

“I know.” 

“You’re not like Adiran, Nerrus, _you’re not-“_

“It’s okay, Dad, I know.” 

“I love you more than anything, I-I do, I just- _I_ _just_ -“

“I _know_ , Dad. It’s okay.”

Vellan blinked back tears, discreetly wiping at his face before pulling away. He couldn’t quite manage the capacity to look Nerrus in the eye. 

“... You’re right, of course. I’m being ridiculous. You’d never take any risks even with your friends—you’ll, you’ll be safe, and take a... a guard or two, and you’ll be back in two or three hours.” 

“Dad,” said Nerrus, pained. “You don’t have to say that just because you accidentally called me _Adiran_.”

“No, no, you were right. I’m being... silly,” Vellan said decisively. “You’ll be fine. It’s not—you shouldn’t feel trapped here, just because I have some things to work through.” 

“ _Dad_ -“

Vellan stepped back and away, pretending he couldn’t see Nerrus reach for him, and gracefully held his arms behind himself like he was thoughtfully pacing in his office. He took a deep, bracing breath before turning back to smile faintly at his son. 

“Nerrus. Please. Go enjoy yourself with your friends, and you can tell me all about it later. Alright?” 

“... Okay,” Nerrus sighed, sounding torn between relief and worry. “Okay, Dad. I’ll come by for dinner and tell you what we did. Alright?”

“With a guard or two,” Vellan couldn’t help but remind anxiously, but all Nerrus did was nod; his eyes, which truly did see far too much for his age, were observing Vellan with alarming cleverness. 

“Of course, Dad. With a guard or two.”

Vellan stared at his son awkwardly for another long moment before giving a jerky nod, stiffly turn around. 

“Dinner will be modest, don’t be afraid to have lunch with your friends,” He offered over his shoulder, and retreated before Nerrus could see him choke on a panic attack. 

* * *

Nerrus stared after his father’s retreating back for a long minute, almost able to imagine he could see an afterimage with how fast Vellan had sped out of the room. 

“Stars damn it,” he swore out loud once he was sure he was alone. Nerrus fucked up. Oh, he fucked up so bad. Nerrus was going to have to get his dad something for accidentally yelling at him. Chocolate? Was chocolate a good makeup gift? 

Nerrus could almost imagine Adiran doing the same thing and grimaced. Alright, maybe not chocolate. Flowers, maybe? No, that was just weird to give to your parent. Well. Maybe flower seeds for the garden, Nerrus considered morosely. Indulge in his dad’s hobbies and all of that. Being a supportive son, which involved _not yelling at his father_. Failure, thy name was Nerrus. 

He crouched and quietly screamed into his hands. Oh, stars, Nerrus was the WORST. He was going to get his dad the best flower seeds or die trying. Maybe buy an apology card for being the world’s worst son.

It might get him a laugh, at least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexal loves his children more than anything. Looking at their tiny infant selves only serves to remind him of this.

Lexal stared at his finger, where little Ritzy was biting him. Her sharp teeth poked painfully into his skin, which he thought was a good sign; she’d be able to bite anyone she didn’t like, he couldn’t help but note proudly. Rowan looked similarly enamored by Lae Lae, who was curled up and dozing lightly in his arms. The fur of his tail twitched every few moments, so Lexal hoped he was dreaming gentle dreams. 

“I think I’m going to cry,” Lexal murmured, meaning it; he did feel quite overcome by fatherly affection. Had his mother felt like this, whenever she burned a world to ashes? It felt easier to forgive her with his own daughter in his arms. 

Rowan laughed quietly and soothingly rocked Lae Lae when he rolled over unhappily.

“If you do, you’ll set me off,” he said lightly, and Lexal thought Rowan was joking until he glanced over and saw his husband’s eyes shining with unshed tears of his own. Lexal’s heart melted and he leaned over, kissing him at the corner of his mouth and feeling stubble that had yet to be shaved. 

“I hate being apart from them,” Lexal mumbled into Rowan’s shoulder, and Rowan sighed and nodded; he silently adjusted, carefully shifting Lae Lae into the crook of his right arm while his left hand carded gently through Lexus’ hair in a way that made him instantly want to fall asleep. 

“I know,” Rowan hummed empathetically, sounding as if he knew exactly what Lexal meant, although of course he did; Rowan may be colder and more stoic, but Lexal knew that his husband cared about things like this more than anyone. 

Ritzy stretched, releasing his poor finger and latching onto Rowan’s sleeve. They both chuckled, watching little Ritzy determinedly chew on it and quickly tear through the fabric with her little knives for teeth, but Rowan looked utterly unbothered. It helped that this wasn’t the first outfit Ritzy had ruined, so the surprise of it had quickly worn off. 

Finally, Lexal gently pulled Ritzy away even when she grasped at the ruined sleeve with her little claws. 

“Young lady, we don’t chew on daddy’s clothes,” Lexal chided gently, although of course his daughter couldn’t understand him at a mere two months. Rowan laughed again, leaning over to gently brush her bangs back so her little jade green eyes could glare up at them impetuously. Little Lae Lae was also beginning to wake up, now; snuffling sleepily while rubbing at his eyes with a tiny little fist. 

Lexal beamed at Lae Lae’s eyes slowly focusing on his face, and they silently swapped children; Ritzy happily began to play with Rowan’s hair hanging loosely down his shoulders, and Lae Lae ever so slowly fighting his way to consciousness. Lexal couldn’t help a delighted kiss to his son’s cheek, and Rowan was almost certainly laughing at _him_ , now, for it. 

“We have the best children in the universe,” he crooned to Lae Lae’s sweet little face, and Rowan nodded while leaning back at an incline, letting Ritzy sit on his chest. 

“We certainly do,” Rowan hummed, lightly running a finger against Ritzy’s tail. 

They caught each other’s eyes and grinned, mutual delight passing through them; Lexal didn’t think he or Rowan could ever fall out of this simple happiness between them, working as they did in court while still managing to catch time with their two infant children. 

“Look at Ketrytz,” Rowan hummed quietly, and Lexal leaned over to see his daughter slowly lying herself flat across his husband’s stomach not unlike a cat. It made for an incredibly amusing sight, and Lexal felt warm love exude from his entire being. He carefully leaned against Rowan, holding Lae Lae against his chest. Their son slid easily between their bodies, resembling a furry little creature willingly cocooning itself between them, and Lexal wrapped an arm across Ritzy over Rowan’s middle. 

“I’m happy,” he said honestly, and Rowan’s face softened. This time it was he that leaned over to kiss Lexal, although he managed to kiss him right on the lips; a slow, deep sign of affection from Rowan that Lexal was reluctant to separate from, and only did so when his lungs began to burn for air. 

“I love you,” Rowan mumbled against his mouth, and Lexal smiled. 

“Love you too,” he murmured back, and they resumed sitting in quiet solidarity with little Laedryn and Ketrytz switching between who they wanted to be held by. 

It was a perfect afternoon. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another potential moment in the potential married life of Lexal and Rowan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man I am just really digging the Lexal/Rowan family dynamic rn!!

Lexal slowly slid down into his favorite chair, and Rowan lying down on the couch just across from him sent him a look of utter commiseration. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, sounding exhausted, and Lexal nodded around a yawn. 

“Y-yeah,” he managed, blinking away the tired tears that sprang up. Rowan looked a little like _he’d_ like to tear up, if only to have an excuse to pass out for. 

“... Which one did you get?” 

Rowan stared at him, his expression stiff and stoic as he silently buffered at the question like an old computer, but then his face practically lit up as he quickly sat upright; he appeared quite desperate to rant about it. 

“Oh my _gods_ , I got the Vaen ambassador and it was AWFUL.”

“Oh, was it? I always like them, they’re funny,” Lexal mumbled around a yawn.

Rowan sent him a rather prissy look for that remark. 

“I don’t see how you can like them — and what do you have to complain about, hm? You got the _advisors_.”

“The advisors suck!” Lexal defended, moaning with remembered agony. He felt like his brain was _melting_. “All those taxes! The benefits! The laws they keep trying to pass under the table if I stop paying attention for so much as a minute! One tried to enact marshal law over a break up she had with her boyfriend who’s part of the Vaenian party!”

Rowan tilted his head and waved his hand in a so-so manner. 

“Eh.” 

“ _Eh_?” Lexal repeated, scandalized. “I guarantee I had it far worse with the advisors than you did with the Vaen ambassadors!”

Rowan stared at him haughtily. 

“ _Eh_ ,” he repeated, quite pointedly, and Lexal gaped at him. 

“Is this-is this you sassing me? Are you _sassing me_ right now?!”

His husband shrugged, beginning to look quite smug at Lexal’s reaction. 

“Am I? I wouldn’t dare say, that could be misconstrued as me mouthing off.” 

Lexal stared at him. 

“ _You’re literally mouthing off to me right now_.”

Rowan looked entirely too surprised, innocent as could be. 

“ _Am_ I? I dare say I’m amazed. Shocked. Utterly astounded-“

Lexal, incoherent with sheer outrage, threw a pillow at him. He missed and it fell short, landing between them, but it at least got Rowan to stop talking as they stared at the result of that rather tragic throw. 

Rowan looked back up, and his expression spoke volumes. 

“... I meant to do that,” Lexal immediately lied. Rowan looked disappointed only in the quality of the lie. 

He opened his mouth, but their conversation was interrupted before it could continue by Ketrytz storming in furiously through the door, shirt partially untucked from her skirt and tail bristling. Both Rowan and Lexal watched their daughter stomp furiously on by to her room without a word to either of them. 

“... Another fight?” Lexal supposed reluctantly, and Rowan sighed. 

“Absolutely your mother’s granddaughter, that child.” 

He turned a flat stare on his husband. 

“I recall you being prone to violence when we were children.” 

“I,” Rowan pointed, the glint of red nail polish flashing in the light, “was being manipulated! We don’t talk about that!” 

“Mmh,” He hummed skeptically, although Lexal did of course realize that Rowan _had_ been manipulated and had forgiven him decades ago. They were only children, back then... Lexal actually felt a bit wistful, remembering those long gone days. 

It made him miss his mother especially. 

Laedryn was also choosing Lexal’s moment of inattention to try and discreetly sulk the rest of his way to his own bedroom without being noticed, but he froze under the combined stares of both his parents. Their son — they were ten, now, almost eleven, Ketrytz was ever so excited — practically wilted before their very eyes. 

Lexal could feel his lips twitch. Laedryn truly looked like Rowan when he gave in like this, mussed up appearance or not. 

Rowan tsk’d, standing up to gently brush off Laedryn’s uniform. 

“You’re so dirty — was someone making fun of you?” Rowan asked with some surprise, the implied _again_ heard quite loudly in the silence. Laedryn just looked terribly embarrassed, staring at his shoes, and Lexal couldn’t help but to get up just to sweep Laedryn into his arms. He shot Rowan a pointed glare, and Rowan seemed to realize that his words could have been misconstrued as disappointed. 

“Not-not that there’s something wrong with that, on your part,” Rowan hurriedly said, reaching over to sympathetically squeeze Laedryn’s shoulder. “Whoever’s being mean to you certainly is doing wrong... I’ll have a word with your principal about it. _Again_.”

Lexal knew that Rowan was irritated at the thought only because this would make the seventh or eighth such conversation that had been had over the topic, but... Well. It wasn’t like they could merely unenroll Laedryn; the academy that he and Ketrytz attended was one of if not _the_ safest in the system, filled to the brim with the children of lords or ladies or ambassadors and diplomats. Even another royal or two, from territories that bordered Lexal’s who remained on swell terms. 

Lexal had gone there, when he was younger. He and his mother, his mother’s parent, his mother’s parent’s father... And Rowan had gone there; infiltrated it, even. Almost dying in adolescence... Good times, good times. 

Laedryn seemed only to catch the irritation in Rowan’s voice and not the reason why, if his further wilting was anything to go by. Lexal shot his husband a quailing glare for it, hugging their son tighter. Rowan looked subtly panicked, gesturing silently for Lexal to pass Laedryn over. Lexal did so, but only after another minute of watching him flail. 

Laedryn at least latched on to Rowan, making a somewhat pathetic sight with his sad green eyes and droopy tail. Lexal wanted to immediately sweep his son back up, wrapping him in everything soft that he could get his hands on so that Laedryn would stop being hurt so easily. Kids had their scuffles, of course — Ketrytz and Laedryn were truly the best example of this, with as often as Ketrytz tried to pummel her brother’s face in, but Lexal found that it was another matter entirely if it was someone else’s child doing the face pummeling. 

“Lae Lae, why don’t you and dad go sit down?” Lexal asked gently, aiming a glance pointedly up at Rowan who had already moved to easily pick up Laedryn and deposit them both on the couch. Laedryn dug himself into Rowan’s side in a way that looked quite uncomfortable, but Rowan appeared remarkably unbothered without even a twitch of discomfort.

Laedryn, still looking faintly miserable, hardly moved even as Lexal carefully wrapped both son and husband up in the nearest blanket; a soft, fuzzy monstrosity of fabric that was rather hideous but far too comfortable to get rid of. Lexal carefully sat on Laedryn’s other side, gently maneuvering his tail so that it wouldn’t be squished into the pillows, and set Laedryn’s feet in his lap. Lexal began to run his fingers through Laedryn’s hair, carefully undoing a tangle or two from whatever tussle he and Ketrytz had gotten caught up in. 

“Do you feel like talking about it now?” He asked quietly, but all Laedryn did was shake his head. Lexal accepted it, even if he rather wished for his son to speak. 

“Alright... Alright. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We can just sit here,” he encouraged. Rowan leaned down to murmur something into Laedryn’s ear, too quiet for Lexal to pick up, and Laedryn sat up just a bit as he leaned further into Rowan’s side. It was sweet, Lexus couldn’t help but think, but then his eyes caught on the doorway. 

Ketrytz was standing there, dirty uniform exchanged for something casual and clean, and Lexal smiled at his daughter, silently inviting her over. She _tap tap tap_ ’d her way over, bare feet letting her claws clink against the wooden floor, long tail swishing and twitching, until Ketrytz was close enough to throw herself into the spot on Lexal’s free side. Lexal wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. What wonderful, utterly lovely children he had. 

“How was school?” He asked quietly, and Ketrytz snorted. She looked down at Laedryn quite pointedly, an action so reminiscent of himself that Lexal couldn’t help his slightly wry smile. “Alright, dumb question,” he granted. 

Ketrytz grinned herself, just a little, and ducked her head. Lexal reached over so that he could begin to untangle _her_ hair, positive that she could use it, and he was proven right; honestly, what even went on in school hard fighting to cause such tangles... Was it hair pulling? Did kids do hair pulling nowadays? Lexal had no idea, although he really should send Rowan to figure it out some time. Rowan would probably _delight_ in making sure there would be no more hair shenanigans. 

Still, that was something for Future Lexal to worry over. Present Lexus could tentatively lean back into the couch, Rowan on the other end with Ketrytz and Laedryn squished around in there too. 

He felt a hand touch his own, and when Lexal looked over it was to see Rowan’s darker fingers brushing against his, interlocking. Rowan was still holding Laedryn, but when Lexal’s eyes peered at him it was to see his husband smiling that wry, not-quite-grim smile of his. There was a silent promise in his eyes, that he would fix this. 

Stars and dust and whatever gods Rowan believed in, but Lexal _loved that man_. He couldn’t help but to lean over to kiss him in a moment of pure affection. Ketrytz made a little sound of disgust under her breath, and Laedryn wiggled from under the blanket as he was slowly being crushed between them, but Lexal decided that the twins could both be patient as he kissed his husband, thank you very much. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. 
> 
> Vellan enjoys duty, when it’s tempered with Neaswe. And it certainly is dutiful to give gifts during one’s birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY NYXIE!!! This is for you since you’re all about those Soft Pairings 😔👌🏻💖✨

Vellan was a bit of an anxious mess. 

This wasn’t something he told himself in an attempt to be cruel, it was an honest assessment; he was anxiety-ridden on his best days and bed-ridden by anxiety on his worst. There were days he crawled under the covers in his bedroom and responded to nothing, crying into his hands for hours on end, feeling pathetic and awful and like the world was ending around him even as everyone else went about their business. 

This wasn’t one of those days, although it certainly felt like it _could_ be if it all went wrong. 

But Vellan was trying to *think positive.* A new and revolutionary line of thinking, to be sure, and difficult in the face of habitual self-depreciation and immense trauma, but Vellan was going to let nothing ruin this day; not even himself!

After all, it was Neaswe’s birthday. 

Well, alright; more accurately it was the later hours of her birthday. The gift exchanging had already been done and over with for several hours now; Vellan had gone and made Neaswe an intricate sort of bracelet that had taken several weeks to make and craft by himself. It was one of those things he simply knew how to do without knowing how, instinctively knowing how to shape things and etch intricate designs. It made Vellan wonder, with a sort of amazement he hadn’t sincerely felt in years at the topic, whether Vellan had been a jeweler in whatever past life he used to lead. 

Maybe. It fit a bit better than some of his other ideas, but fit poorer compared to everything that Vellan was. 

But regardless, Neaswe had loved the gift and immediately worn it, refusing to take it off for anything. Adiran’s reaction to it had been a sort of wry grimace, watching Neaswe with eyes gone dark. But Adiran could react strangely to most things, so Vellan didn’t think much of his reaction no matter how peculiar. No, instead Vellan had spent the day in a happy sort of daze that Neaswe had so sincerely liked _his_ gift _that much_.

Neaswe had thanked him more privately, too, outside of her profuse thanking in the moment. It was almost enough to make Vellan’s face flush completely just at the memory of Neaswe’s calloused hands touching his face, her lips on his own-

 _Well_.

Vellan was only mortal, and so, so in love, so perhaps it was only too normal to remain stuck on that single silly memory. Neaswe with her face reddened and eyes shining and stare accidentally straying... it was almost too easy, really, to get caught up in that kind of attention. But Vellan could also imagine why his... his lover, a regal enough name for what Neaswe was to him... didn’t act on her desire even if she was utterly flushed with want. 

The answer was, in a way, both of them. Neaswe was noble, and kind, and willing to put aside her own desires to avoid potential hurt. It was the kind of sincere nobility of heart that Vellan believed only Neaswe possessed; but it was also the problem, in this case. And Vellan knew himself, made it a habit of being as honest as possible with himself — he very much desired Neaswe, beyond the innate desire he felt at her charming personality. 

It was... Ugh, Vellan felt gross just thinking the word, but it was a more _carnal_ desire. It would probably be manageable, were Vellan not so intimately aware that Neaswe... _Desired_ him in return. 

To reiterate, Vellan knew himself. He knew his thinking, his traumatic triggers, his likelier reaction to near anything no matter how improbable. Vellan also knew that by most standards, he was very, very pretty. Beautiful, he’d been called more than once. He knew that Neaswe _liked_ that, liked it in a way that she struggled to reconcile with her desire to grant Vellan his own independence in matters of intimacy. It was a delicate song and dance between them, juggling this relationship with untouched trauma for landmines. 

Vellan thought they were doing well, but that was because he _trusted Neaswe_ except she didn’t seem to trust herself. So. Something was going to break, and it just so happened that Vellan’s self control was breaking first. That was fine; Vellan never claimed to be an endless source of patience. What was less fine was that he couldn’t predict Neaswe’s reaction, _but_ , he told himself strongly, that was fine too. 

He didn’t need to predict every good or bad reaction. _He didn’t._ What he DID need was to... to figure out where he stood, with Neaswe. In terms of desire and carnal activities and... all of that. 

That was why Vellan was being slightly deceptive and ambushing Neaswe in her private suite. It was... dirty. Most certainly underhanded by any consideration. Was it manipulative? It felt a bit manipulative. Vellan very much hoped Neaswe didn’t take it as manipulative and-

And. Well. That was the anxiety, of course, but Vellan found that he was suddenly having second thoughts. Oh, oh he was very much having second thoughts. Maybe a panic attack for dessert, just to top off all this regret Vellan was having. 

_So much regret._

“Vellan?” 

Vellan froze, taking a moment to regret all of his life decisions. Since part of that involved sexual slavery, he had much to regret in that single moment he allowed himself. He slowly pivoted on his heel, having not noticed he’d begun to pace, and... Yes, that was indeed Neaswe standing bemusedly in her own doorway and not a mere auditory hallucination. 

Of course it was. Vellan could never catch a break. 

“Hi,” He squeaked, because of course he did, and Vellan swallowed thickly before trying again. “I-I mean, er... Neaswe. Hello. How can I-I mean, um. Hm.” 

_Damn it Vellan had a SCRIPT this was DISASTROUS someone HELP HIM-_

Thankfully, his stammering if nothing else served to amuse Neaswe the slightest bit if the curve of her mouth was any indication, and she stepped into the apartment. 

“Not that I’m not pleased to see you,” Neaswe said wryly, amusement gentle on her face, “but is there a reason you’re lurking in my rooms?” 

_Oh nooo she DID think he was lurking, Vellan was the WORST._

Vellan took a deep breath. Held it. Calmly released it. 

“I would... Very much like to have a conversation with you,” he managed, although it dropped Neaswe’s smile from her face faster than a rock. 

He panicked, just a little. 

“Not for anything bad,” Vellan added quickly. “It is- more of an inquiry made for the sake of us both!” 

Neaswe didn’t quite ease up, but her shoulders weren’t quite so rigid either. 

“Alright,” she said cautiously enough to make Vellan wince. “Alright, so you want to talk and it’s... not anything bad. We’re not breaking up, are we?”

“N-no!” Vellan, mortified, actually almost physically flailed as he tried to wave down that suggestion. Oh, _no_ , Vellan very much did not want to break up! That was the absolute last thing he wanted!

He had to take a deep breath, and Neaswe stepped closer while he calmed his racing heart. Vellan grabbed her hand, and then her other, and he was left staring up at his absolute favorite person while his lips trembled very slightly. 

“I. Would very much. Like to have relations with you,” Vellan announced stiffly, not even able to fall back on courtly mannerisms. 

Neaswe’s eyes went very, very wide in the half moment before she was quickly leading them both to the couch. It was Neaswe’s preferred arrangement, when they had a Serious Conversation. She didn’t like to loom over Vellan. 

Very sweet and thoughtful, but entirely unnecessary this time. 

“... Okay,” Neaswe began, breathing deeply. “Okay. So. You want to have, uh...”

“Relations,” Vellan supplied helpfully, and Neaswe nodded quickly. 

“Yes, that. You want to... do that.” 

Neaswe sounded a fair bit dubious, so Vellan gave her his best blandly unhappy smile. 

“You don’t need to sound so disbelieving over it.”

“It’s not that! It’s-well, alright, it’s a bit that, but... I thought you didn’t have any interest in that kind of thing, after...” 

Neaswe waved a hand expansively; not dismissively, but wordlessly. That was fine; she didn’t have to say _after you were traumatically forced into sexual relations for several years_ for it to be heard, in this case. Vellan flushed, regardless, because he would much rather pretend that had never happened, and it was a bit of a mood killer. 

“This is different,” He managed to strangle out, shoulders hunching. “You- _you’re_ different. I lo-I like you, a lot, and I trust you, and I know you would _listen_.” 

Neaswe smiled at that, a little guilty and a little bemused all at once. She gently squeezed his hands. 

“And I’m grateful for your trust in me,” she said very seriously. “I only worry that this is... a bit fast, is all.” 

“I feel like if I wait any longer then I’ll actually die,” Vellan said honestly, and Neaswe choked on a surprised snort of laughter. She regained her composure a moment later, but her smile didn’t go away this time. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, compassion shining in her eyes. “If you start second guessing yourself, or if you change your mind-“ 

“Then I’ll tell you,” Vellan promised sincerely. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like anything, or if I’m uncomfortable. I-I... I want us both to enjoy this kind of thing. And I know I _can_ with you.” 

Neaswe grinned, relief obvious, and leaned forward to kiss him. 

“Should definitely use protection,” She murmured against his mouth, and Vellan grinned wryly. 

“Well _I_ certainly can’t get pregnant anymore.” 

Neaswe eyed him curiously, definitely quite intrigued by the implication. 

“... Does that mean you have, erm... both types, in your pants?” 

Vellan blinked at her. 

“... You _don’t?”_

They both stared at each other in amazement over this revelation. 

“... Did you think I was going on top?” Neaswe asked curiously. 

Vellan flushed, resisting the urge to fidget. 

“W-well! You’re somewhat taller than me, you know...” 

Vellan thought it had been a reasonable assumption, considering he had certainly never been the... the _penetrator_ in truth, as it were. 

Neaswe, thankfully, appeared only mildly amused as she drew Vellan closer to her. 

“I certainly _could_ peg you, if that’s more your style,” She murmured, and Vellan’s face had never felt so warm as one of her hands found its way to his thigh. “I could also lay on my back and let you choose our pace.” 

“I-I, uh...” All eloquence had quite succinctly deserted Vellan as he stared up at Neaswe. “I... I thought. Um. That, that you could... pick?” 

“This is a partnership,” Neaswe corrected gently. “And I think this is the kind of thing that _you’d_ have to decide.” 

Vellan stared at her helplessly. 

“... Could I just... try touching you?” 

Neaswe’s expression softened; she scooted back only to reach for the end of her shirt, slowly taking it off as if she thought Vellan would run away if he saw too much skin at once. That was probably a fair assessment; Vellan could barely keep his eyes on Neaswe, unable to look above her stomach for the rare glimpses he could actually comprehend. 

His face felt like it was on fire, but Vellan wanted — _needed_ — this physical intimacy with Neaswe. Otherwise it felt like giving up, like a personal failure against himself.

“You’re very pretty,” Vellan mumbled. Neaswe made a sound of gentle delight, 

“Am I? I didn’t think you could tell, you can barely stand to look at me.” 

Vellan took a deep breath and made himself _really_ look this time, actually observing Neaswe’s lithe upper body. Her broad shoulders were smooth and unblemished, strong arms resting against the couch. Her stomach was toned, and Vellan had to look away from her muscles or he might spontaneously combust. Her breasts caught his attention next, round and well proportionate with the rest of Neaswe. 

Vellan made eye contact with Neaswe and immediately wanted to die at the soft amusement in her pretty pink eyes. 

“Oh, now I can see where you think I’m pretty,” she laughed, voice gentle and kind enough that not even Vellan could feel anymore embarrassed by her words. She then eyed him with some consideration, bronze hair falling down her shoulders as she tilted her head. 

“Do you want to stay fully clothed? You can if you’d prefer.” 

Vellan didn’t have an honest preference; he’d been taken in near enough any position, clothed or unclothed. He only hesitated out of a sense of sudden shyness under Neaswe’s observant eyes, but even that hesitance faltered and he carefully pulled off his own shirt, grateful he had had the foresight to forego a cloak this evening. Neaswe lit up with delight, inching closer to brush her hand against his shoulders. 

“Oh!” She gasped, honest amazement in her voice. “I didn’t realize you had freckles anywhere other than your face... And they’re _glowing_ , Vellan!” 

“They’re bioluminescent,” he explained just a touch wryly, relaxing under Neaswe’s hands. “You can touch them if you’d like; I know they must seem strange.” 

“If they’re strange it’s only because I haven’t seen them before,” Neaswe grinned and leaned closer to get a better look at his permission; Vellan obligingly turned his body for her, just enough for Neaswe to admire the freckles that lined and dotted the back of his shoulders while Vellan could keep her in his line of sight. 

“They’re really cool,” Neaswe sighed admiringly a moment later, eyes trailing lower to take in the rest of him. “Oh — do you have markings elsewhere?” 

“A couple,” Vellan hedged. “They look a bit like, like natural tattoos, I suppose... but I’m sure they’re natural if only because of the bioluminescence.” 

“Maybe you were a bad boy,” Neaswe teased, a careful cadence in her voice at this previously unexplored territory. “Naughty, naughty, Vellan — getting tattoos like that down _there...”_

 _“I definitely didn’t choose to get tattoos there!”_ Vellan squawked, voice strangled. Neaswe was clearly laughing at him, and Vellan was much more relaxed at how gently casual this all felt, so he rolled his eyes and reached for the waistband of his pants. Neaswe’s laughter cut off, and Vellan squinted up at her; her face had gone red the instant his pants were down to his thighs, exposing him in his underwear and what remained of his legs being covered in fabric. 

_“Oh, wow, you really do have markings down there,”_ Neaswe whispered with fervent reverence in her voice. 

“It’s _natural_ ,” Vellan instantly stressed at the look on her face, as if Neaswe really was considering him actually getting glow in the dark tattoos in the murky waters of his past. 

Eurgh. Now _Vellan_ was considering it. He really hoped it WAS just weird biology at work. 

Neaswe laughed even as she slid her own pants off, discarding then without a thought on the floor. Her long legs were certainly something to be admired, but Vellan determinedly kept his eyes averted out of lingering politeness; he could surely admire Neaswe’s physique some other time. 

There was a moment where they stared at one another, as if waiting for the other to make the first move in removing their underwear. 

“... I have to ask,” Neaswe practically exploded. “If you have markings so low then does that mean your... you know... do you glow on your-“ 

“NO,” Vellan squeaked, voice breaking. _“No, I don’t have markings at all on my p... penis!”_

Neaswe’s eyes glinted with heavy amusement. 

“Are you _sure_? Maybe you just haven’t checked... I could look for you-“ 

“You fiend!” Vellan burst out, trying not to laugh. “Look, see, I most certainly do _not_.” 

Vellan, shyness forgotten for the moment, slid his underwear off and discarded it wherever his pants had previously landed, crossing his arms. He was half aroused already just from seeing Neaswe’s body, shown freely without any true expectation that he had to return the favor. Trust was a heavy, heavy aphrodisiac all in itself. 

Neaswe’s eyebrows raised approvingly. 

“... Okay, so you may not glow but I’m not gonna lie, the tentacle was totally not what I expected.” 

“It’s not a _tentacle_ ,”* Vellan rolled his eyes. “It’s just a... it’s literally just my penis, Neaswe.”

Her face remained unconvinced. 

“... I don’t want to hear anything from someone who doesn’t _have_ a penis.” 

Neaswe snorted. 

“Alright, alright; fair enough!” She grinned, taking any offense right out of the room as she slid her panties off to land delicately on the floor. Vellan blinked at her. 

“... I thought you’d have hair down there,” He admitted after a moment. Neaswe shrugged. 

“I shave. What’s more surprising is _you_ don’t have any hair down there.” 

“I can’t grow body hair,” Vellan explained with a shrug of his own. “It’s why I never need to shave my face.”

“So no risk of feeling stubble on your face or any future beards that are utterly hideous?” Neaswe asked teasingly, and Vellan grinned back at her. 

“Oh, certainly not; only the risk of terrible haircuts from me, _my_ _queen_.” 

Neaswe’s eyes lit up with delight at the emphasis on her title, lowering her head to give Vellan a kiss. Her voice was almost a breathy purr, and Vellan made a note to himself that Neaswe _definitely_ liked him using her title. 

“Oh, my _lord_ , you certainly know the way to my heart!” 

He grinned, reaching a hand up to place lightly on Neaswe’s shoulder as Vellan stared up at her through his long eyelashes. 

“Do I? I think I’d have to prove it. I’d _like_ to prove it,” he added more earnestly. Neaswe smiled back at him, appearing quite amazed that this was all real. 

“Alright,” she agreed, pulling back to look Vellan more squarely in the face. “Would you prefer to, you know,” she waved a hand, “be on the top or bottom?” 

Vellan tilted his head, looking at her. 

“... I’d like to, erm. Be on top, if you please. Besides,” he added more confidently, “it’s _your_ birthday. You should continue to be the one receiving presents.”

Neaswe looked honestly happy at the reminder. 

“I’d almost forgotten,” she admitted, looking down at her wrist to admire Vellan’s gift to her briefly before returning her attention to him. 

“Are you sure? It’s okay if you change your mind.” 

“I won’t,” Vellan assured quickly. “ _Really_. Trust me!” 

Neaswe appeared mildly apologetic. “I know, I’m sorry; it must seem like I don’t trust you but I promise I absolutely do.” 

“I know,” Vellan nodded, and he did; Neaswe was reluctant to do anything that could potentially compromise the easy companionship they had with one another, and it was obvious. But to reiterate, they _both_ wanted a physical relationship and it was just as obvious. 

“... How should we start?” Vellan asked, and Neaswe grinned at him. 

“ _Well,_ since you want to be tonight’s penetrator-“ Vellan winced at such a cringeworthy way of calling it, gah- “-I should start by stretching myself. You have a lot of tentacle,” Neaswe said with another approving glance downwards. 

“... It’s still not a tentacle.” Vellan said for lack of anything else to say, almost wanting to cross his legs defensively. Neaswe’s smile took the defensiveness right out of him. 

“I know, I know — I’m only joking, Vellan, honest.”

Her hand trailed lightly down her stomach, and Vellan determinedly looked up. He felt like a child being so easily flustered on this subject, but it was difficult to remain calm even though it was just himself and Neaswe. Maybe even especially because it was them. 

“You don’t want to watch?” Neaswe questioned lightly, and Vellan hummed noncommittally. 

“I don’t know if I can,” He admitted, still staring at the ceiling. Watching made him _feel_ _things_ , and Vellan was determined to not have to work through anything traumatic this evening; this was going to remain lighthearted and good or, or so help him _stars_. 

“Mmh... Well,” Neaswe said, slowly, “would it help if you came closer?” 

“... A little,” Vellan confessed. Neaswe chuckled and Vellan took that as wordless permission to slide next to her. He could feel her eyes on him, probably cataloguing his every reaction. It was half a comfort, knowing she was so concerned on his behalf. 

“I think this should be well enough,” Neaswe finally sighed out, exhaling softly, and Vellan tentatively glanced over at her. She looked almost relaxed, easing back into the sofa languidly. He could see the fingers she’d used glistening, and Vellan had to again look away before he further embarrassed himself. 

“Do you think so?” He asked, just to be sure, and it was Neaswe’s turn to look wry. 

“Trust me,” she said dryly. “I think I can tell when it comes to figuring out what I can put in me.”

“I’m just making sure,” Vellan defended, although he couldn’t retain even a bit of peevishness in his posture: it WAS a fairly silly question to ask Neaswe, after all. 

Neaswe rolled her eyes but was grinning while she did so, so Vellan positioned himself over her with his hands resting softly on her waist

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you,” he requested, just to be sure. Neaswe’s eyes crinkled into a smile. 

“Vellan, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. Now go on; let’s get to it, won’t we?” 

Neaswe shot him such a charming grin that he couldn’t help a wobbly grin back; Vellan had to hold himself by reaching down for his length with his hand, carefully aiming with repeated anxious glances towards Neaswe’s face. Neaswe shifted her hips, and he slid in easier. 

Looking only a little caught off guard by the sensations, Neaswe drew Vellan’s close enough to kiss him deeply. His arousal... yes, alright, it really was much like a tentacle... squirmed and pressed against Neaswe’s inner walls enthusiastically. 

“Are you excited or is that just me?” Neaswe asked breathlessly, choking on a laugh that Vellan simply *had* to roll his eyes at. 

“It’s probably both,” he said just a touch wryly, carefully rolling his hips to see how much of himself could fit inside. 

Neaswe began to giggle again, breaking off into breathless little gasps, and Vellan wasn’t too far behind her; he wasn’t laughing, but he almost felt like it with Neaswe clearly enjoying herself because of _him_ and Vellan right there along with her, the both of them feeling good- 

It was... it was honestly great. 

Vellan tentatively pulled out just a bit before pushing back in, and Neaswe’s eyes lit up with an eagerness she almost immediately tried to hide. 

“O-oh... do you like that..?” He questioned earnestly, doing it again, and Neaswe bit her lip. Vellan’s eyes tracked that for a long moment before moving up to her eyes. 

“D-do what _you_ want,” She insisted, and Vellan demurely lowered his face until his lips were just barely brushing against Neaswe’s. Vellan looked at her through his eyelashes in the precise way he knew would make Neaswe’s face go as red as possible. 

“This is a _partnership_ ,” he chided gently, echoing her earlier words, and they simply grinned at one another for a very silly moment. 

“... Yes, I like it,” Neaswe admitted, so Vellan carefully did it again; he could feel himself press against Neaswe’s walls, the way her hips shifted to take him deeper, how they both leaned into one another eagerly with a beginning desperation- 

And before Vellan had realized it a steady pace was quickly developed between them; pressing in and out of Neaswe and trying to contain his own gasps, Neaswe having no problem with throwing her head back and clumsily mumbling such sweet praises that Vellan’s face was lit afire, wanting to hear more even as they traded sloppy kisses that trailed unsteadily from their lips to their jaws to their throats, and before he knew it Vellan was kissing the pulse in Neaswe’s neck even as she hungrily sucked a mark into his. 

But Vellan was unpracticed, now, stamina poorer than ever; he hadn’t done this kind of thing in _months,_ and doing it with someone he wanted to do it with for once was so heady a feeling that Vellan half expected to pass out at any moment. He could feel his own release nearly overcome himself, and Vellan was embarrassed only that he hadn’t managed to assist Neaswe reach her own peak yet. 

“Y-you’re close, right?” Neaswe gasped in his ear, one of her hands tangling itself in his hair, and Vellan could manage only a jerky nod in response. “‘S’okay, s’okay... go ahead an’ come, Vellan...” 

“You haven’t,” was all Vellan could say in response in a strangled voice, and Neaswe’s head bobbed up and down. 

“‘M alright, don’t need to... just let go, sweetheart,” she encouraged, and it was the endearment that proved Vellan’s undoing; he came almost immediately, embarrassed and relieved all at once, and muffled a cry into Neaswe’s shoulder. 

Vellan and Neaswe were both left breathless, panting and connected, he more tired than she was. 

“I love you,” he blurted, unable to withhold the words even a moment longer, and Neaswe drew back to look Vellan in the eye, cupping his face. 

“Oh, _Vellan_ ,” she said, sounding happily heartbroken over his words, and then she was kissing him sweetly. “I love you too, I do, don’t ever doubt that.” 

Vellan couldn’t imagine ever doubting Neaswe, not in a million years. 

“I love you,” he repeated helplessly, exhausted and practically brain dead for it. “I love you, Neaswe, I love you...”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illicit affection makes for poor affection — this, Vellan is aware of.
> 
> In other news; the sexiest thing of all is consent.

By popular consensus, Vellan turned... twenty, or maybe twenty one, within the first month of Neaswe taking him under her wing. They didn’t celebrate because they were still mostly strangers, firstly, although it was primarily because even Vellan didn’t realize it was his birthday. Or... approximately his birthday. Not even modern day technology was accurate enough to give the precise date of someone’s birth, especially if they didn’t know the planet of origin. 

So. 

Vellan was told to pick a date in the month of Arc, and he picked out the twentieth. It didn’t hold any real significance to him other than he was turning maybe twenty or twenty one around this time (although everyone agreed it MUST be twenty with a face like his. No, Vellan still didn’t get it.), so he flipped a coin to choose between the twenty first and twentieth and wound up with the twentieth of Arc for his birthday. 

Truly, a riveting moment. For Neaswe, at least; she was pretty excited at the time. Vellan had been admittedly disinterested in the whole ordeal, but his concept of self had still been pretty new and shoddy so Vellan tried not to hold it against his younger, more naive self. 

But the reason why Vellan was thinking on the topic of birthdays was because it was Adiran’s; Neaswe’s cousin and closest confidant amongst the gaggle of followers she collected, easy as a breeze. Vellan’s _own_ birthday was still two months off, thank whatever starry deities were listening, from Fereona and Woshar to the dead gods; he certainly couldn’t handle Neaswe attempting to throw a party in his honor, or at least not yet. 

But Adiran was why Vellan found himself squished into a discreet seat in a bar on the second of Naer, two days into the new year, hoping desperately he wasn’t recognized as Neaswe’s pet charity case so that it wouldn’t reflect badly on her; it was Adiran’s birthday, and the older man had practically lunged for the chance to pull Vellan aside several hours previous for a night of fun. 

Vellan was using quotations, there; “night of fun”. 

Being surrounded by all this excitement, with people chatting eagerly and-and-and Vellan was _not_ acknowledging the couple in the corner who were certainly doing more than trading tongues, stars, _that_ was certainly a mess— 

Oh, hells, that was someone else joining in. It was definitely time for Vellan to Firmly Look Away. 

Vellan returned his attention to Adiran, feeling that much more traumatized by this entire experience and slightly shell shocked for it. 

“Isn’t this great?” Adiran asked, catching his gaze, and his pink eyes were crinkled into a wide grin. Neaswe’s cousin was always grinning, looking happy or amused like everything was a joke that only he knew the punchline to. But Adiran’s grin was infectious, and Vellan found himself giving a slow, shy grin in return. 

“Oh! Uh, yeah, this is-it’s really something,” he replied, barely able to hear himself speak but unwilling to entertain the thought of yelling. Luckily it seemed Adiran needed no translation because he was already nodding, the loud music sounding a beat almost in tune with Adiran’s nodding. Maybe he was doing it on purpose. He probably was. Adiran seemed the kind of person who would do that just to mess with people. Or maybe mess with Vellan, which was fair. 

Vellan paused and slowly slid his drink away at the circular pattern his thoughts were going in. He’d best stick with water for a little while if he was going to be so easily affected; the cheep alcohol — Vellan discreetly checked the shoddy sign above the bar; there were mostly Beonite brews with a few especially sweet Niossi beverages, and one or two he was sure were of dubious legality — they had stocked here was clearly much stronger than it looked. 

Blinking, Vellan turned his attention back to Adiran who was laughing at something that the person next to him was saying. Adiran’s pale gold hair gleamed in the purple flashing lights, and he almost seemed more handsome than usual. It would almost be enough to make Vellan flustered, but he was quite happy with Neaswe. 

And besides, there was just... _Something_ about Adiran, Vellan couldn’t help but think absently. He was smart, fun and easy going, usually, but sometimes- 

“Hey, c’mon,” Adiran nudged Vellan’s shoulder, interrupting his thoughts again easily. “You’re not gonna let your drink go to waste, are you? They work pretty hard here!” 

“Oh, well, I-I thought maybe I should have some water,” Vellan mumbled, realized Oderan couldn’t hear him over the music and repeated himself. 

“What?” Adiran stared at him, a little bemused. “C’mon, the point is totally to get drunk out here, isn’t it?” 

“Is it?” Vellan questioned, surprised, but already in his mind he was swearing at himself for not realizing that sooner. 

“Do it for me,” Adiran entreated earnestly. “A birthday gift, if you will!” 

Vellan had already gotten Adiran a gift; some books which Adiran had looked upon with greedy hunger in his eyes. He was showing a recent interest in the subject of psychology... A true academic, Adiran was. And... apparently a true partier, too. 

“Okay, okay,” Vellan laughed, feeling only a little pressured to keep drinking his sweetened Niossi beer. He drank deeply under Adiran’s watchful eye, coughing slightly at the burn. He didn’t expect the burn when it was so sweet, _fek-_

“Why does it hurt if it’s sweet?” Vellan asked anyone listening because _hello_ , and Adiran began to laugh at his plight. 

“Oh, man, isn’t it the worst? It’s great!” 

“No, no, not great,” Vellan swore, pointing a shaky finger at one of the Adiran’s swimming in front of him. There were two, his eyes unable to focus on one without losing sight of the other, so he squinted vaguely at the middle. He took another sip. “Awful. Terrible! Utterly no good!”

Adiran laughed again, and it echoed loudly throughout his head. Vellan cringed. 

“Aw, don’t be like that! Beginner’s bad luck that you decided to get something _Niossi_ ,” Adiran chortled with heavy amusement. “The only thing you could’ve done worst is get Vaenian wine, but this isn’t exactly a high class scene.”

“Vaenian drinks have _flavor_ ,” Vellan muttered just a shade shy of sulkily under his breath. 

“It tastes like rotten meat,” Adiran declared, and Vellan gasped with genuine offense. 

“It does _not!_ ” 

“It does! In fact, we’ve got some over in the Twin Moon Suites; I’ll prove it to you,” Adiran announced, and he hopped off the stool with a swagger in his step. Vellan followed less gracefully, scrambling to catch up with Adiran’s longer legs as they left the bar with its headache inducing music and walked into the brisk too-early air. 

Vellan shivered and tugged his hood down lower over his face. Stars, it was _cold_ if your blood ran as cool as his did. 

“Why d’you even have anything Vaenian if you don’t like it?” Vellan found himself asking curiously, eyes darting up towards Oderan’s face as they walked. Adiran grinned down at him sharply. 

“Oh, you can’t tell? It’s for guests, usually; I know that Nherans are pretty fond of it, and that the Ithlixtya liked it, too.” 

Adiran cast a speculative look down at Vellan, then. 

“... Speaking of which, are you maybe Ithlixtyan?” 

“Who, me?” Vellan asked before he could stop himself even though it was plainly obvious just who Adiran was talking to. “I think I look more Dareshi than anything else, what with my having horns and my skin and... and almost everything else about me. Aren’t the Ithlixtya extinct, anyways?” 

“I’ve heard there’s still a couple of big time clans out there,” Adiran answered absently. “Like the Pirate Lord, Dara. She’s apparently Ithlixtyan.”

“Amazing. A near extinct race of people still among us, and one’s a famous pirate lord. Truly, an inspiration to us all,” Vellan said decidedly flat. Honestly, imagine having a _pirate_ as your species’ legacy. 

Adiran snorted. 

“What, you don’t like pirates?” 

_No_ , Vellan answered silently, emboldened by the liquid courage he’d already consumed to be honest with himself in a way he rarely felt like being. _I hate pirates; they’re monsters and bastards all of them. Piracy is just another word for slavery, for peddling the flesh of others in whatever capacity they choose. I hate them all._

“... No, not really. I think they’re kind of lame,” Vellan answered out loud, and Adiran choked on a surprised bit of laughter. 

“Fair, fair! I guess they are kind of lame. But the _aesthetics_ ,” Adiran sighed almost wistfully, and Vellan snorted discreetly into the fur of his hood. 

“The aesthetics,” he echoed in a wobbly voice, trying not to laugh. He failed, trailing off into giggles, and Adiran had maybe had one glass too many himself because he wasn’t too far behind, and there they were snickering like a pair of naughty children into their hands in the middle of the street at two in the morning. Vellan hoped no local guards stopped them, because Vellan was almost definitely too young to be out drinking like this. At least Adiran had the excuse of age at a fresh thirty-two. 

The Beonite age of drinking was twenty-five, so go figure that Adiran was one of those aristocratic types that totally disregarded it. 

They continued to amble along the wide Beonite roads casually, noncommittally speaking in alternatively quiet or childishly enthused voices about the fashion or lack there of amongst pirates right up until they waved their way through the palace gates, bypassing the guards entirely with Adiran absently flashing a badge of identification. It had the feel of something the older man must have done a thousand times, to be able to do it so effortlessly. 

Vellan abruptly wanted one of those. It would make getting around _so_ much easier on the rare occasions that he accompanied Neaswe out into the city. Was he at the stage with her where Vellan could ask for one, he wondered, or would it be selfish? It might just be wort the risk. 

Well. Vellan _said_ that to himself in the privacy of his own mind, but even as a joke he simply knew that he wouldn’t be asking for a badge. Not if it would negatively effect Neaswe’s good opinion of him! Which it probably wouldn’t, but Vellan couldn’t _guarantee_ that, and...

Stars, his thoughts were back to their habit of circling his mind in the endless little feedback loop they were so fond of. Vellan firmly told himself that he wouldn’t suffer a bit of anxiety for the rest of the morning-or-night-or-whichever-it-was or he’d do... well, something surely terrible and harmful but in a minor way. Like moving all of his furniture an inch to the left. 

_How terrifying_ , Vellan thought with vague horror at the idea of the bruises that would develop on his hips and elbows and shins from bumping into things that would be just a little out of place. 

“Here we are,” Adiran interrupted Vellan’s thoughts with an ease he both admired and envied. “The Twin Moons Suite. After you, my Lord Vellan!”

“I thank you, Lord Adiran,” Vellan said with an exaggerated bow from the waist down while Adiran opened the door with a flourish, and off they were walking in like they owned the place. Which was probably arguable in Adiran’s case, but alas; Vellan was but a homeless tramp mooching off the goodwill of his girlfriend. 

It was a pretty nice apartment. Nice and airy with an opened balcony if you continued straight on after walking inside, with a bedroom almost adjacent to it. Soothing tones of blues and silvers and whites decorating the walls, with a deep blue as the base and intricate white stars twinkling along the ceiling before fading away the closer to the ground you went. Elegant silver patterns twirled into themselves happily, branching out for that painted starry sky. There was a living room to the right of the entry way, and a kitchen to the left. It was all so very small without being cramped. 

Fantastic, in a word. The room was satisfyingly elegant, and Vellan could almost smell that stashed away Vaenian wine. Adiran really did outdo himself when it came to prime drinking locations. 

“C’mon, go ‘head and sit; I gotta look for it and it might take me a second,” Adiran explained, making a beeline toward the kitchen immediately. Vellan did as he was directed, choosing to sprawl across the couch rather than merely sitting politely and making himself as small as possible as he was usually won’t to do. 

Vellan decided, somewhere between critical awareness and acute absent mindedness, that the Niossi really were too good at their alcoholic beverages. 

“Aha!” Adiran called with distinct victory in his voice, sounding totally satisfied. “Found it!” 

Vellan sat up to peer at Adiran holding up a bottle in celebration in the kitchen, several others tucked under his other arm. 

“Well let’s not wait any more,” Vellan invited, unable to help a lopsided grin as he eyed the bottles eagerly. “Let’s get started!” 

Adiran laughed easily, not even bothering to grab either of them a glass. His own eyes were somewhat dark with anticipation as he eyed the bottle in his hand, so Vellan supposed it must not taste _completely_ like rotten meat to Adiran... That, or the older man had utterly eclectic tastes. Vellan truly wouldn’t have been surprised. 

Still! Needs must, and _Vellan_ _had_ _a_ _thirst to quench_. He made grabby hands for one of the bottles, and Adiran passed it over. It was wine, of course; all the best things in life were wines, although especially sweet white wines. Vellan immediately took a large drink from the bottle itself, reeling back as it hit him and having to blink stars out of his eyes. 

Vellan used to drink fairly often with clients back during his previous times as a bed slave. There was once he’d spent almost a week straight utterly wasted due to back to back clients, each one classier than the last who liked to indulge. It had been fairly miserable, but it had also given Vellan a taste for the drink. There had been days Vellan had been forced to drink it only to immediately go dry for the next three months... So there was something mildly liberating in getting to choose just how drunk Vellan wanted to get himself, and why, and with who. 

And with _Vaenian wine_ , which tasted of hot days and cool winds. Vellan imagined spicy foods going with it, meat hotter than an overbearing sun hanging high in the sky and as delicious as the wine and water used to wash it down to soothe his tongue. It was such a vivid image in his mind’s eye that Vellan half heard a voice, turned to answer- 

But it was just Adiran, coughing slightly while nursing his own bottle. 

“Gods, I haven’t had any of this in a while — I forgot it hits you almost instantly,” he laughed, and Vellan forgot all about long lost memories and impressions. He grinned at Adiran’s plight. 

“Oh, that’s what you get for wasting your stomach on your Beonite brews.” 

“Hey, you could be Beonite!” The other argued, and Vellan scoffed. 

“ _Me?_ Absolutely not!” The idea was faintly scandalizing. Some largely buried patriotic instinct, he supposed absently and immediately forgot it. 

Adiran rolled his eyes and took another large gulp from his glass, practically inhaling the liquid inside. He coughed less, now, apparently accustomed to it. Vellan drank much more slowly, still feeling the effects of their earlier drinking. 

“Hey, wanna try something?” Adiran asked, and his eyes were bleary but his voice was clear as he stared at Vellan. Vellan, for his part, squinted slightly. He couldn’t help it; it was just such a suspicious thing to ask, the way he asked it. 

“... Sure,” Vellan decided anyways. It couldn’t hurt or anything. 

“I’ve heard it can be better like this,” Adiran explained, and there was a creeping sense of slyness to his voice as he grabbed Vellan’s wrist and pulled him closer; in a quick move that left Vellan incredibly dizzy, their positions were reversed with Vellan nearly squished into the cushion of the couch and Adiran hovering over him, face uncomfortably close to a leer. Uncomfortably close in general, really. 

“Uh. W-what’s better?” Vellan asked, blinking the dizziness away and setting his drink down. “Is it... is it, uh... Yeah, I’ve-I’ve actually got nothing; I’ve no idea what’s better like this.”

Rolling his eyes with obvious exasperation and even a bit of huffiness, Adiran leaned down and kissed him. 

Vellan had to reboot his brain. Adiran was kissing him rather deeply; forcing his tongue in his mouth and Vellan didn’t want to hurt him but it took everything he had to not clamp down with his sharp teeth because _he did not like this._ Adiran pulled away with a hiss, though, a bead of not-quite-scarlet escaping his mouth, so Vellan supposed even as he clamped his mouth tightly shut that he hadn’t really succeeded in managing the impulse. 

With a faintly irritated look, Adiran pressed a wet kiss to his jaw, this time, dragging his tongue across his skin there, and Vellan gave a nervous trill of laughter as Adiran practically cornered him on the couch with his body. They were both at least somewhat drunk, and Vellan was in a committed monogamous relationship; this definitely wasn’t the type of mistake Vellan wanted either of them to make on Adiran’s _birthday_. Or at all, really. 

“I, um. I think we’ve _both_ had enough,” he mumbled, and Adiran stared at Vellan for a long moment with his hand tangled up in Vellan’s hair. Vellan found himself holding his breath, nervous laughter dying abruptly at the look on the older man’s face. 

In the hallway outside of the still-dark suite, a light turned on. 

“... Right,” said Adiran, a touch too slowly. 

“... I, uh. I’m. I think I’ll get some water,” Vellan blurted just shy of breathlessly, and he told himself to stop panicking even as he slid out from under Adiran and fled towards the suite’s kitchen. His hands were badly shaking as his fiddled with the sink, forgoing a glass entirely to just stick his entire head under the faucet to quickly sober himself up. 

One of his horns hit the edge of the faucet, making his head spin worse than it already was as he essentially tried to drown himself in the sink. 

This was just a, a... Vellan fought to remember the word from the therapist he went to somewhat infrequently. This was-it was just a trigger, right, it was called a trigger and it happened because the alcohol was playing with his perception of events; it wasn’t anyone’s fault if it happened, Vellan repeated his therapist’s words to himself. These things happened all the time. Adiran was pretty drunk too, Vellan was sure that he’d had more to drink than Vellan did. He didn’t need to be... whatever he was. Worried, or anxious, or whatever. 

It was just Adiran. They were _friends_ , and Vellan needed to stop reacting like the people he cared for would purposefully hurt him because they _wouldn’t_.

“-heard you guys were out in town! What’s up with that, I would’ve joined you if you’d asked,” he heard someone say through the water rushing over his head, and Vellan hit his head on the top of the faucet all over again when he realized it was Neaswe’s voice. He turned off the water, sputtering slightly and trying to push his hair back out of his eyes and walked right into a wall.

Vellan may or may not still be just a bit drunk. 

There were twin snorts of amusement, and Vellan looked left to see both Adiran and Neaswe staring at him, with Adiran twisting back to look towards him while still on the couch and Neaswe standing beside him, in her late evening outfit. He supposed it was Neaswe who’d turned on the hallway light just a few moments earlier. 

“... Good morning,” he attempted very casually. Vellan leaned against the wall, missed it entirely, but caught himself before he fell and tried again. Neaswe was clearly trying not to laugh at him, but Vellan was going to be the bigger person and ignore that. 

He did so by looking her in the eyes and very pointedly crossing his arms, leaning more heavily against the wall on wobbly legs. 

Neaswe finally began to chuckle, walking over to help him stand upright. Vellan didn’t realize he wasn’t until her hands were keeping him there, so balance was very appreciatively restored. Stars bless his girlfriend and her endless kindness and generosity, Vellan thought very loudly so that she would receive his affection for her. 

“Why thank you,” Neaswe said with gentle amusement, and that was when Vellan realized he was also talking out loud. 

“ _Fek_ ,” he swore, and Neaswe choked on silent laughter. That was fair; Vellan rarely swore at all, so it was probably memorable when he did. 

“I think you should probably be put to bed!” Neaswe grinned down at him, and Vellan tried not to feel sheepish, but... Yeah. Yeah, he probably should be. 

“I have lost all feelings in my legs,” Vellan immediately claimed, which was only partially true. They were just kind of numbed and tingly. “I don’t think I could walk another step forward.” 

Neaswe lightheartedly rolled her eyes, bending down to swoop him up into her arms. Vellan may have swooned, just a little. Neaswe had _such strong arms_ , stars. It was very, very flattering to be at the mercy of a woman who was so strong. 

“Goodnight, Adiran,” Neaswe said with faint exasperation, and her cousin replied but Vellan was too busy admiring Neaswe’s arms and shoulders. It was like they were _sculpted_ , how was Neaswe even real?

Neaswe took off at a brisk walk when the polite goodbyes were done with. Vellan wondered dazedly if Neaswe was slowed down at all by carrying him. 

“Nah, not really,” she answered. 

“... Ah. I’m still talking out loud.” 

“You’re mumbling every word that enters your head,” Neaswe agreed indulgently. Vellan sighed, rubbing his eyes sheepishly even as his face heated up. 

“Stars, that’s embarrassing.” 

“Aw, don’t be! Happens to the best of us. Especially after someone goes bar diving with Adiran for the first time.” 

There was a silent inquiry in her voice, and Vellan deftly avoided her questioning look by staring down the hallway. Nailed it. 

“... Illegally, mind you,” Neaswe added somewhat pointedly. Vellan cringed. 

“Gah, I know, I’m sorry,” he instantly surrendered, defenses crumbled in one fell swoop. “I didn’t-I mean, I figured, Adiran said he wanted to catch some drinks, y’know, so I figured sure, why not, sounds fun! Except I thought it would be a nice quiet night of us just chatting and drinking real casually,” Vellan explained, rambling, and Neaswe mouthed the words _real casually_ to herself with all apparent amusement. “Maybe with some of Adiran’s friends, y’know? And then he surprised me at ten by saying we were going out and I thought, you know, maybe we were sightseeing, but then he dragged me to a bar and then another and another ‘till we found one he liked and-“ 

Neaswe laughed quietly into the dark hall. 

“Vellan, it’s _fine_. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been coerced into accompanying Oderan on one of his bar explorations at least once.”

“I broke the _law_ ,” Vellan whispered, horrified realization coloring his voice. He’s known that, but now it was _hitting_ him. 

“It’s more of a formality,” Neaswe comforted, although it wasn’t very comforting in actuality with her mouth twitching upwards like that. 

“You have to arrest me, Neaswe, I’m a _law breaker._ ”

“You’re drunk, and pretty, and probably really emotional right now, Vellan, but you’re not actually a law breaker.” 

“... I kissed someone,” He finally admitted, and Neaswe glanced down at him with raised eyebrows. 

“Oh. Yeah? Did you like it?” 

“Not really. They weren’t _you_.” Vellan sighed, and Neaswe smiled indulgently. 

“Well, I’m flattered. Although why’d you kiss them if they weren’t me and you didn’t like it?” 

“Well-“ Vellan fumbled, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “I mean, it was-it was less that and more I just kinda sat there, so.” 

“... Oh. They kissed you?” _Now_ Neaswe sounded unhappy. Vellan would’ve shrunk away if he could, but alas. His body was very heavy, and Neaswe’s arms were very secure. 

“Uh... Kind of... yeah. Yes.” 

Neaswe frowned, amusement largely wiped away. 

“Honestly... Adiran could’ve at least kept an eye out for you if he was going to go through all this trouble to invite you out personally.” 

_Adiran was the one who kissed me,_ Vellan thought, but his mind was sluggish and hazy and in Neaswe’s arms it didn’t seem to matter who may or may not have kissed him. Honestly, he just wanted to kiss _her_.

“They weren’t _you_ ,” he said again, awkward even after everything, and Neaswe looked as though she wanted to keep frowning but simply couldn’t when she looked him in the eyes. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, sounding marginally better. “Yeah, they sure weren’t.” 

Vellan squirmed until he’s was sitting up better so that he was able to look Neaswe in the face at approximate eye level. 

“Don’t let me kiss anyone else ‘cept you,” he said very seriously, and now Neaswe really did break back out into a grin. 

“I’m going to laugh at you later if you remember this conversation,” she announced brightly. “It’ll be fun. You’ll hate it what with baby’s first hangover, but you’ve gotta start learning to say no _sometime_.”

“I can say no!” 

“Of course you can,” was the passive agreement. Vellan was distinctly outraged, even as Neaswe opened a door that he distinctly recognized as his. 

“ _I can!”_

“ _Mmhm_.”

Neaswe promptly dropped him into his bed, and Vellan squawked with offense. He sat up, stumbling, and having to push still-damp hair out of his face. 

“How rude!” He gasped, scandalized, although a grin threatened to overtake his face. He paused, took in his surroundings, and looked up at Neaswe through half-lidded eyes. 

“You know, I’m in bed... you’re in my bedroom... and you did just drop me so rudely...” 

His girlfriend looked entirely unamused, but in a rather lighthearted way; her hands were on her hips rather than crossed across her chest as she looked down at Vellan, for one, and she didn’t look near half as stern as she would be if she were actually irate. 

“You know what’s better than you in bed like this?” Neaswe asked, a single eyebrow raised quite pointedly as she stared him down. Vellan tried not to sweat nervously before her eyes. 

“Uh... You, always?” 

Neaswe kindly patted Vellan’s cheek. “It’s cute that you think that. But no, the correct answer is _consent_.” 

Vellan wilted. “Oh.” 

“Yes, _oh_. And consent is pretty impossible if you’ve been out with my cousin. Now if you want some entirely chaste cuddles, on the other hand, before you succumb to your death inducing hangover..?” 

Vellan eagerly wriggled to the other side of his bed. 

“Please?” He begged eagerly, and Neaswe’s face did that funny thing where it pretty much melted with affection without actually changing that much. It was all in the eyes, Vellan thought even as Neaswe kicked off her shoes and crawled on top of the covers with him, and Vellan lazily threw an arm around her middle just to hug her and have her near. Neaswe was the _best_ , still so early in her pregnancy but bothering to check up on _Vellan_ , and she was happy and soft and... and... And Vellan’s thoughts drifted, drifted, drifted away quickly, right as he dozed into sleep.

* * *

Several hours later when the sunlight was filtering gently into the room in a way that was usually ethereal but now was only maddening, Vellan did indeed succumb to the promised hangover when he woke up; dry heaving into his floor pathetically while Neaswe tried not to laugh at him. 

“I want to _die_ ,” he croaked miserably into the carpet that framed the floor his bed was propped on, which was cool and gentle and his new best friend for not laughing at him. Vellan would marry the carpet if it proposed to him this very second. 

“I did warn you,” Neaswe hummed, although she sounded apologetic at the very least. She patted his back sympathetically. 

Vellan groaned, regardless. 

“It’s so much worst than I thought it would be... I’m filled with endless regret. Please, if you have any mercy in your heart, Neaswe, finish me off; I promise I’ll never drink again.” 

Neaswe clucked her tongue. 

“You and I both know you like Vaenian brands too much to hold to that.” 

Vellan wilted against the floor, sending her a pathetic look. 

“Just once, every now and then...” 

“And how often is every now and then?” Neaswe questioned curiously. He had to think a moment, soldiering through his blinding headache. 

“... Once a week?”

Neaswe scoffed, and that was how Vellan was introduced to the concept of _drinking in moderation._

How utterly scandalous. 


End file.
